"And what about murder? How would we incorporate such an evil with such...realism?"
Her fingers drummed with a sense of rhythmic impatience, the smile she bore was little more than a facade to hide something more, something dark. The words seemed to hang within the air, lingering with hellish expectations as to what the answer may be.
Her eyes locked with mine, narrowing ever so slowly, ever so delicately, ever so deadly.
"Oh, I'm sorry! That was a rather mean question for something so simple as a theatre interview! How about we start again, you'd like that?"
The tension left the room, and the other girls stirred with their own sense of anticipation, for only a select few would make it to the theatre stage. Natural selection - you make it, or you break.
Oh, how true it would become.
On cue, the interviewer regained her posture, and ran a hand through her pristine curls. For an aging woman, her features seemed too perfect, too fake, too hidden. But regardless, the interview continued.
"Raven Rivers, 16 years of age, yes?" she quirked, peering over her glasses.
"Yes," I replied, forcing myself to smile.
"Ah, good. Your interest are listed as..."
Great, another method of complete embarassement.
"Oh, you recently moved here?"
This managed to peak the intruige of the room. Girls turned from their phone screens to observe the scene, their eyes picking away, piercing through me. Some seemed almost nervous, whispering with anxious expressions to one another, and one girl simply sighed. The room began to feel dramatically smaller.
"Y...yes, business reasons," my voice croaked up, looking down at my feet for a moment.
What's the big deal? A town like this should have frequent newcomers. Maybe they're intimidated by my 'whopping' 25 followers on Instagram.
I had my own beautiful facade, which was my insignificance. However, she had somehow cut through the rose bushes to expose my hidden flaw.
Attention.
Rather ironic for someone who wants to become an actress.
"I'm sure you'll recieve a very...warm...welcome. Won't she girls?" the interviewer proclaimed, momentarily turning towards the awaiting auditionees. In eerie unison, they all nodded in a synchronized pattern, and returned to their previous occupations. For a moment, I caught an uncanny slight in the interviewers smile, but she returned to her monotonous perfection before continuing.
"Oh, we haven't introduced ourselves yet, have we? Come on girls, show her how its done!" she hollered, slugging herself from the prison of the metallic chair and clapping her large hands together. She had previously introduced herself as the duality of both stage director and producer, essentially holding the matriarcal position within the drama company. Nancy Springs, with her narrow lips and narrow eyes, contrasting heavily to her waist. As for her intentions, somehow her persona didn't scream money.
That was what I didn't like.
Some would give her credit for her enthuastic nature, but I still wasn't convinced. And as for the band of talented misfits she somehow brought to the stage, there was an eerie supression to them. One girl was a goth, the other dressed all in pink, and one looked like they has spent too much time getting high than getting grades.
But that didn't change the way they acted around her.
Like some beautifully crafted symphony, they all followed the leader.
"Whether you get a place on our mad tagalong bus or not, you better get used to these faces. Youth can be preserved in fountain of talent, and when the big cats come to town, only the best pretenders can make it. There is no better mask than the very flesh that hangs off your face. This town has survived, and so have we. One day, you might come to realise that this isn't just another theatre company,"
For a moment, I was stunned by the raw passion within her delivery. The way her pupils ingnited with connection, the gentle curling of her mouth, and the fluxuating intensity of her voice.
But she was being the pretender, the mask, manipulating the delicate muscles of her features to invoke emotions within her audience.
If only it could have been just a theatre company. What a wonderful spectacle that could have been.
________________________
☆I decided to re-write this first chapter, setting the tone better. It isn't wonderful, but I'll get into the swing of it again.
Hopefully.
~A, 22/06/17, 11:18pm
ESTÁS LEYENDO
The Pretender
Novela Juvenil"You're not like all those other drama girls, are you?" Stress and anxiety followed Raven Rivers after accidentally signing herself up for a Drama Summer Camp, where basic stereotypes thrived in groups and black was seen as a fashion tragedy. It was...
